


Winter Begins

by hentadiles (orphan_account)



Category: The Edge Chronicles - Paul Stewart & Chris Riddell
Genre: Gen, i need a nap after this tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-11
Updated: 2014-08-11
Packaged: 2018-02-12 17:13:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2118141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/hentadiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is not always our greatest friends who help us pick ourselves up and carry on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter Begins

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I just, I don’t know. I said I was going to write this about 45 years ago and I just now finished it. It’s actually not as long as I thought it would be but also not as short?? 
> 
> Also I just dislike myself for writing it period so there’s that.
> 
> So yeah here’s Maris after Linius’ death lmao…
> 
> (oh also you might want to be aware of this post: (adinofdel.tumblr.com/post/81639645266/before reading it because yeah it’s really heavily based on that headcanon i’m sorry

Maris knew no one expected her to maintain her composure, but if she didn’t have that, what did she have? She kept her head down and her cloak drawn tight around her partly to ward off the chill but mostly to ward off the tears.The procession slowly wound its way through the snow covered streets of a deserted Sanctaphrax and Maris was grateful for the excuse to hide her face. The towers of the Knights Academy loomed ahead of them the main gate held open to accommodate the wide pyre carrying Linius’ body. Maris sniffled quietly as they walked through, attempting to hide her swollen eyes

 

It seemed the entire academy had turned out for the spectacle. Maris wished she were naive enough to be thankful that so many people wanted to honor her father’s memory. But she knew nearly everyone in attendance was there merely to get one last look at the man who had nearly brought himself and Sanctaphrax to ruin. The few, too few, who could still be considered friends were already standing next to her; the Professors of Light and Darkness; Philius Embertine, whose stormchaser had been anointed to carry the funeral shroud to the stone gardens; and Sigbord, captain of the Treasury Guard and one of the few Linius Pallitax had truly trusted. Together with a small contingency of Academics-at-Arms in formal robes who bore the Most High Academe’s funeral pyre from the Great Hall to the Knights Academy they made their way through the crowd to the base of the Gantry Tower where the Hall Masters and thirteen Knight Academics-in-waiting.

 

Maris tried to ignore the poorly concealed mutterings about her father’s last days that were caught on the cool breeze and carried forward to where she waited as the Academics-at-Arms passed off their burden to the other waiting members of the Knights Academy. She wanted nothing more than to turn and scream defenses for her father’s actions, to make these petty academics realize that every action he took had been for the love of Sanctaphrax. But she was sworn to silence, and unsure if she could find her voice now anyway.

 

Vaguely aware of Philius’ hand gently guiding her to her place in the line, she fell into step at the middle of this new procession. Tears began welling up in her eyes once again as they began the final ascent.   
Half way up the tower and she was starting to think she could do this. Her tears dried slowly and a hollow calm settled over her. She would cry more later, she was sure, but now, all she focused on was the rhythmic rasping of armor as they approached the upper landing.

 

Once they reached the landing the Professors of Light and Darkness both turned to face Maris, looks of pity on their faces. Maris felt a bubble of indignation rise in her stomach, she wanted none of their sympathy now, but quickly buried the feeling. Any emotion was liable to make her cry again and she would not do so in front of these men.

 

“Wait here Mistress Maris,” the Professor of Light said softly.

“There are final preparations that must take place, you may board when it is time to depart,” the Professor of Darkness added with a grim smile. “Tradition and all.”

Maris merely nodded, she wouldn’t have had the energy or the will to argue with them now if she had wanted to.

.

The Professors, Philius Embertine, Sigbord, and twelve of the Knight Academics-in-Waiting made their way out onto the ship, following Linius’ body. A final knight, the one who had been behind her on the way up, stayed behind and slowly stepped around to stand beside her. Maris glanced up from the floor, searching for the person behind the tightly shut visor. Her mind began working again, turning out questions that burned for answers but that she had no voice to express. They stood in silence for a time, Maris trying to figure out just how to use her vocal chords, and which question to ask first.

“Who?” her voice cracked and stopped. She couldn’t manage any more. 

 

A gauntleted hand reached up to lift the heavy visor, revealing an all too familiar and painful face. Maris opened and closed her mouth, seeking words yet again, as she met Screedius’ gaze. The look in his eyes wasn’t of pity, as all the other looks she had been receiving today had been. Instead it was unbridled sympathy and, almost, understanding.

Tentatively, he reached out and place a hand on Maris’s shoulder. She broke. All of her resolve and work at not crying fell away as she jolted forward and clung, as best she could, to Screedius’ armor.

 

He was surprised, to say the least, and very unsure of how to comfort someone who had just lost the only family they had left in the world. He gently wrapped his arms around Maris’s shoulders, careful to not injure her on all the outer pipework of his armor.

 

Neither of them said anything. There wasn’t anything to say. Maris held tightly to Screedius’ armor, using him as a anchor to keep her from completely breaking down. They hadn’t been the best of friends, but Screedius had been one of the few who had bothered to get to know her father for the man he really was. Screedius had respected Linius more than most in Sanctaphrax and for now, that was what Maris needed.

 

The Professor of Light appeared at the doorway moments later to inform them it was time to depart. Maris stepped back from Screedius, set her jaw and furrowed her brow, determined to be strong from here on out, determined to make her father proud. She stepped strongly onto the ship, head held high, breathing a little bit easier knowing that someone on that ship was there not for political reasons, but for her father, and for her.


End file.
